


A Father’s Duty

by FrozenSnares



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Laughter, Rickeen, Rickeen Shipweek, Romance, Stannis POV, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenSnares/pseuds/FrozenSnares
Summary: Stannis Baratheon has always been a serious man with a strong sense of duty. It leads him to war with little support or hope for survival. His only hope is that he can leave behind a better world for his daughter and only heir—a world where she can find happiness.Written for Day 2 of Rickeen Shipweek—Prompt: Laughter





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Picset](http://frozensnares.tumblr.com/post/150970020956/a-fathers-duty-stannis-baratheon-has-always)

Stannis Baratheon was a man with little reason to smile. He had faced hardships his entire life, from having his marriage bed sullied by one of his brothers, having his right to rule thrown into doubt by the other, having a war to fight that the Seven Kingdoms ignored, and having a wife whose womb was nearly as dry as the Great Grass Sea. Long and hard he had fought, and he was closer to his death than he should be for a man of his age. There was little he could do about this. He had come too far to deliver the seat of Winterfell to the rightful Stark heir and rally the support of the North to fight the threat Beyond-the-Wall. Now, he could only wait to see if his plea would be answered by the other lords, or if he would be the first of many to die in battle.

His only break from reality—his reminder that he had good cause to fight for—was his daughter. From the instant she was born, Stannis loved her more than anything. He used all of his power to ensure she survived greyscale in her infancy, and he was willing to go to the ends of the earth just to give her the future she deserved. But with his position and Shireen's place in the war, she had a difficult childhood. She was nearly three-and-ten, and she had no companions save for his bannermen that traveled the length of the country with them. Only her bastard cousin remained, though Edric spent his time trying to prove himself as a knight, and Devan Seaworth's loyalty was to Stannis alone. As such, she lived a lonely life, with books to keep her company more often than not.

He sent Ser Davos to look after her whenever he possibly could without causing his men concern. Even though it was unwise to use his Hand for such personal matters, he appreciated the effort of the knight to keep his daughter properly seen to. Stannis knew without a doubt that Shireen had taught Davos to read, and he hoped that she knew how to properly socialize when the time came. Shireen often sat with her hair in her face, trying to cover the greyscale, as she read, wrote, sewed, and practiced at the harp. Her future was entirely his to decide, regardless of what came of the war.

All his wishes for the Iron Throne and Shireen to sit it as queen were simply that. He knew that her future needed to be decided sooner lest something happen to him in the war. She was a reserved child, most often quiet until spoken to, but Stannis hadn't seen her genuinely happy since they were at Dragonstone. His greatest fear was that he had doomed her to this fate himself, and that she would fail to be content in her marriage as he was in his. However, her safety weighed more on his mind, and he needed to find her a match that cared not for her look, only her safety.

Today, Stannis found her at a harp, plucking out slow, melancholy melodies that sat in the air around her. No one was around, and Stannis cursed his wife. He knew that Selyse much preferred to ignore Shireen entirely. Shireen played the entire song before she noticed him in the room.

“Father,” she greeted, turning from the harp and bowing the best she could from her seat.

“You play well,” Stannis replied. Compliments never came easy to him. He would much rather tell truths than have his words twisted. “Have you been practicing now that we have returned to Castle Black?”

“Since they located a harp, yes,” Shireen said. She licked her lips, looking a little uneasy. “Have any lords replied to your call?”

“Not that I know,” Stannis said diplomatically. He swallowed, pacing the room once before settling into a chair.

“Are we going to lose?” Shireen whispered out, staring into her hands.

Stannis shook his head roughly, praying that he could make it so. “No,” he told her. “We will win, and you will have a throne.”

Shireen smiled gently. As usual, it didn't reach her eyes. Her mouth simply formed the shape, perhaps as comfort to him. “Ser Davos has not yet returned,” she said. “Is he safe?”

Placing a hand over hers, Stannis squeezed gently. “I sent him on an important errand,” he said. “I'd rather he return late and successful.”

“Of course,” Shireen muttered, looking slightly dejected.

Time was moving on, and Stannis would soon be sent for. His always had to limit his time with his daughter, and he always told himself it was for her sake. Again, he tried to reach out in the only way he knew. “Would you like to attend the war council with me?”

“It is not a lady's place,” was her response. Shireen turned back to the harp. “I could not shame my father so.”

“Very well,” Stannis said, thinking that he would much rather have his daughter’s opinion on the war than some of his council. Bright as she was, there was no doubt in his mind that Shireen would someday make a great queen. She only needed to find it herself soon.

It was months later that he saw her smile again. As he expected, it was for Ser Davos’s return, far too close to the call of war. He came with others, though Shireen paid them no mind. As soon as she could, Shireen ran at Davos, hugging him tight. Stannis tried not to watch on, going over to greet his guests. Apart from a small sailing crew, all the guests remaining were more soldiers for the war: the highest ranked men who had armies coming by land. It didn’t take long for Stannis to give them their orders before going over to greet his Hand.

“Ser Davos,” Stannis called, striding through the snow to the man.

Davos bowed deeply, still holding onto Shireen’s hand. “Your Grace,” he greeted. “They’re the last I could convince. We may not have enough to barricade the Wall.”

Stannis nodded solemnly, glancing down to where Shireen was clutching onto his hand. After his wife passed, Stannis knew he had to keep his daughter as safe as he could, and that would no longer be at his side.

“Winterfell,” Stannis told Davos that night, long after it grew dark. “You’ll take her to Winterfell. She’ll be close enough to know of the war, and safe if the Stark boy grants her his protection.”

“You trust the boy yet to turn eight?” Davos asked. “Send her to my wife. Marya will look after her.”

Stannis shook his head roughly. “It’s too far,” he said. “Anything could happen to her on that journey. I can’t risk it.”

Davos huffed, sitting back in his chair. “Is that wise?”

“Yes,” Stannis replied, clearing his desk of everything save for a clean piece of parchment. “With her, you will give Lord Stark a message: my request that he send any bannermen he has to the Wall.”

Nodding appreciatively, Davos sat back. “It’s a wonder the Northmen aren’t here already,” he murmured out.

“And you will offer him Shireen’s hand in marriage, on his promise to keep her safe for however long they live,” Stannis finished, dipping his quill into an inkwell.

Davos stood up fast enough to send his chair to the ground. “I will not!” he protested. “That Stark boy is too young to be trusted. Raised on Skagos, no one knows how fickle he’ll be, if he’ll deserve her.”

“Davos,” Stannis sighed out, exasperated. “There is no safer place for her—no better seat for her to have. After the war, with the fighting down south, the Iron Throne will no longer be safe. The North has already seceded without the Stark name. Shireen can hold the throne in the North, and we will pray that Lord Stark is more honorable than his father.”

“You’ll just hand her over then?” Davos asked, still miffed with the plan. “Leave the Stark boy to do as he pleases with her?”

“Of course not,” Stannis snapped back. He paced about the room, trying to think through a way to explain it to Davos, and a better way to put it on paper for his letter. “It will be Shireen’s decision. If, for any reason, she does not wish to have him for her husband, I will break the betrothal.”

“How, with the war?” Davos pointed out immediately. He crossed his arms, obviously peeved with the arrangement Stannis had spent months thinking over. “Another letter?”

Stannis shook his head, realizing the issue with his plan. Letters could be burned, destroyed, lost. “You’ll stay with them,” he said, liking the decision. “As my Hand, you could arrange her betrothal just as well and gauge whether Lord Stark can care for her. You need not offer unless Shireen is happy there.”

Davos chuckled likely. “You’d rather your Hand watching the safety of your heir than helping your war?”

Stannis smiled, thinking of how absurd it would seem to all his men: sending his daughter and only heir off with his Hand while the Wall became consumed with battle. “Yes,” he finally settled on. He righted the parchment before him, dipping his quill into the ink. “I’ll prepare a message for Rickon Stark, and you will be the sole manager of Shireen’s affairs until the war is done.”

“And if you die?” Davos asked.

Stannis looked up sharply. “Then, I ask that you care for her as long as you can.”

\--

It took more willpower that Stannis will ever admit to having when he saw Shireen off a few days later. Neither of them shed any tears, but Shireen clutched to him for longer than Stannis ever thought she would. He pressed her as close as possible, realizing that he may never see her again. He had spent the better part of a day explaining everything to her, making sure that she knew full well that she could deny or break any possibility of a betrothal at any moment she chose. Ever the practical child, Shireen refused to give him any slack for the arrangement, ensuring him that her vow would be kept if and when Davos presented the offer.

When they finally parted, Stannis watched her travel off with only Ser Davos at her side. There were no other men to spare, and he prayed that nothing would harm them as they traveled south. 

It was two moons later that Stannis received his first letter from Winterfell. He knew that it was only from Ser Davos, explaining the state of the keep and keeping Stannis informed on their goings. Davos had already spoke to a wildling woman—Rickon Stark’s caretaker—about the possibility of a betrothal, letting the idea be present while Rickon and Shireen grew and learned about each other.

Stannis replied to all the letters when he could, but the drastic differences in how busy he and Davos were made it so that they letters were soon piling on Stannis’s desk. In the few minutes Stannis had to himself, he read through Davos’s letter, seeing that they varied in length greatly and that Davos wrote him for every little detail.

From the words, Stannis had an ill opinion of Rickon Stark. The boy was wild by all accounts, preferring the company of his direwolf to anything else. He was only reined in by the will of the wildling woman and only for very short periods of time. Stannis found he was glad that he sent Davos off to watch over them, especially since Shireen could be kept away from the other child. However, Stannis hated reading how Shireen seemed to be more withdrawn at Winterfell, and he sincerely wished that he could go with her.

In the coming months, war was the omnipresent focus of everyone at the Wall. Men died daily, and siege on the Wall seemed like it would never stop. Stannis’s only reprieve from the violence was to lock himself away and read all the letters from Davos that had piled up. Even when Shireen’s state seemed to be getting worse as winter grew colder and the war grew harsher, Stannis knew that Shireen was far better off away from the brutality that surrounded him.

Surprisingly, it was the shortest letters from Davos that Stannis most looked forward to. Oftentimes, they were simply a sentence or a phrase, followed by a longer letter describing the day in detail, as if Davos believed Stannis would get the news sooner in a shorter letter. They were particularly good at expressing Davos’s gut reactions and raw feelings about whatever was happening with Shireen. He tucked away one that simply said, _I will never let Shireen wed this boy_ , making sure to leave it someplace safe.

After nearly a year, and far too much bloodshed, the letters started to take a turn. The wildling woman had finally convinced Rickon Stark to sit for lessons with Shireen, and while they weren’t unkind to each other, there was simply no interaction. For a long while, it seemed like Winterfell was in a standstill as the Wall was under constant assault. Still, the war was only ever half of Stannis’s worries, as he nearly spent as much time waiting on word of Shireen.

A few times, Shireen wrote to him herself. Her letters were much more formal and diplomatic than Davos’s, and Stannis almost laughed at the contrast. Still, he was floored by the simpler missives, watching as Davos delivered tiny details that told the full story of his daughter’s life. Nothing stopped him more than the first that started a long chain.

\--

_She smiled today._

Stannis nearly wrote back, demanding to know how and why, but he was pulled from the room for a meeting. Even stealing glances at the small scrap of parchment, Stannis stayed focused as he finally felt like he had a chance to see his daughter happy. A few days later, Stannis received the remainder of the story. Shireen had been wandering about Winterfell, as she usually did, when she stumbled across a winter rose nearly as blue as her eyes. She took it to start a bouquet, but couldn’t find any others. It was the giant direwolf who came to her aid, depositing winter roses in front of her for the remainder of the day that made her so happy.

\--

_She is petting the wolf. The wolf doesn’t like me. Why does she like the wolf?_

Evidently, Rickon Stark’s direwolf had taken to Shireen, especially after giving her winter roses. A few times, Rickon had tried to force his direwolf away to no avail, simply sulking off on his own while Shireen gained a companion for the day. Shireen always returned the direwolf before sundown, even if Rickon was far less than pleased at having his wolf gone for so long.

\--

_They speak now. Rickon still mostly in the Old Tongue. Shireen is learning the language._

With Rickon’s upbringing, he knew nothing of the common tongue. He didn’t know how to read or write, knew nothing of the lands and histories, and he was still expected to be Lord of Winterfell and King in the North after the war. Though, he had been sitting in on Shireen’s lessons, he hadn’t actually done anything during them. With little encouragement from Shireen and a lot of yelling at and from Osha, Rickon began learning his letters very slowly. However, Shireen picked up the Old Tongue much faster, coaxing him into learning the common tongue.

\--

_They’ve learned how to play together._

It had been nearly three years since Stannis sent Shireen away. Four years of harsh war and scattered messages regarding his daughter. The letters were getting fewer; the war was getting harsher. Numbers were depleting, and Stannis made certain he was not one of them. Even if that dreaded red woman changed her prophecies, she was gone to this world now. Stannis would survive in spite of this, and he _would_ see his daughter again. It was a relief that he had any news from Shireen, and he saved every single letter she wrote personally, hoping for her insight, though she was often objective about the matters.

\--

_The Stark boy is two-and-ten today. Shireen found the old Stark records._

They spent the day together, according to Stannis. Shireen had tried to prepare food for his nameday with the help of Osha, though neither were very good in the kitchen. Instead, Shireen had walked the grounds with Rickon, letting him blabber on about anything and everything that came to mind. He was very talkative, but only to Shireen.

\--

_He won’t marry her._

Osha told Rickon about the possibility of a marriage to Shireen when Rickon was three-and-ten. Without even considering the matter, he refused. He was still only a boy, but Davos suspected that it was because Shaggydog would often leave Rickon’s side to be with Shireen and the boy was mad. Still, she hung her head for the rest of the day, aimlessly wandering the keep and sending Shaggydog away. Later, Rickon gave her a winter rose in apology, earning a rare smile from Shireen.

\--

_He is teaching her to use a sword._

Davos didn’t even inject any worry about this one. He had previously told Stannis that Rickon wanted nothing to do with Shireen, but with their forced proximity, it seemed likely that they would start sharing hobbies. Stannis nearly laughed himself at the thought of Lord Stark learning how to sew. He read on about how Rickon wanted a sparring partner enough that he was willing to teach one himself. They practiced every morning before lessons, only with wooden blades, and with the kind of play associated with children.

\--

_I can’t believe I forgot her laugh._

Stannis froze. He reread the short message five times over. Still, he could not remember Shireen’s laughter. Nothing about it was familiar enough to conjure in his mind. Shaking his head, Stannis sought out the letter with the accompanying story, certain that it was hidden in the deep pile of parchment on his desk. He had little time to see to the letters with how busy the war was becoming.

Shireen had hidden herself in the keep for some reason or other, curled up alone. It didn’t take long for the direwolf to find her, but Shireen even kept herself hidden from the wolf. Not too long later, Rickon found her. She wouldn’t be coaxed out with his words, and she snapped when he tried to tease her. Then, Rickon sprawled himself out in the snow before her. He asked her to join him, and she refused. When he offered his direwolf, Shireen joked about accepting, and he tripped over his feet trying to tell her off in his anger. The second time he tried to stand, Shaggydog shoved him into the snow, and Shireen smiled at him. On the third try, Rickon ended up in the snow again, and Shireen laughed. Finally, she helped him to his feet, leading him all the way to the maester’s chambers and tending to his very minor wounds.

\--

_He likes to watch her play._

Whenever Shireen found her way to a harp, she would play until her fingers couldn’t take it anymore. However, she always had a spectator. Rickon would always be sitting against Shaggydog just watching her as she went on. A few times, he would fall asleep, but he was more likely to take her outside afterward so she could dip her fingers in the snow.

\--

_He is a show off._

Rickon intentionally took Shireen around to show her things he was good at. Shireen would watch him shoot a bow, prepare an animal, cook a meal, or ride Shaggydog. As expected, Shireen easily brushed these off, teasing him about how he should be better with so much practice. Rickon retorted back to this a few times, eventually leading Shireen to ride Shaggydog herself because ‘it couldn’t be that hard.’

\--

_He is trying to court her._

Shireen sought out Davos to show him a necklace Rickon made her. He had taken a scrap of bark from the Heart Tree and carved it into his sigil before affixing it to a strip of leather for her. Shireen told Davos everything Rickon told her about how the Skagosi didn’t often have jewels or gold to adorn themselves with, so they made do with the natural surroundings. She blushed a deeper red than Davos had ever seen when he suggested that Rickon liked her.

\--

_Shireen is teaching him to dance._

Stannis quickly shared Davos’s opinion of this. While it was obvious the two of them were growing closer than ever, he had no doubts about Rickon’s intentions in asking for lessons. Even if he used the blizzard as an excuse, Stannis could see his aim. Still, Shireen was a strict teacher, making him learn all the steps properly if he was going to accompany her. Apparently, neither of them could get through an entire lesson without blushing furiously or laughing the entire time.

\--

_They will be happy together._

Stannis slumped down onto his desk, shaking off the letter. He didn’t even bother searching for the other piece of the story. Instead, he gathered up all the letters, trying to keep them organized by when they arrived and placed them into a box. Unbuckling his sword belt, Stannis threw it into a corner of the room. He would be glad to never see a blade again. He wandered the room for a clean piece of paper, dragging it over to his desk. Finally, he sat down to put ink to paper. 

_I leave for Winterfell at first light._

\--

Long as the war had been, Stannis never expected to return south. He was already beyond surprised he survived it at all. Leaving the Wall, Stannis vowed never to return. People were sluggishly trying to return to warmer land, particularly as he believed this winter was the coldest they ever had. Stannis couldn’t rush his journey, but he had hundreds of letters to keep him company and remind him what he was returning for.

When the gates of Winterfell finally came into view, Stannis urged his mount on faster. He was disappointed that no one was out on the grounds, but he quickly tied up his horse before finding his way into the keep. Immediately, he was graced with soft, feminine laughter. The smile came easily, and Stannis rushed to the voice. He found his path blocked by a massive beast, nearly taking up the entire hallway, but behind it, he could hear Shireen.

“Nonsense,” she said sharply. “If you want the title so much, you’re to greet all of your guests properly, in the hall.”

“What if Shaggy wants to greet them?” someone argued. Stannis knew it was Rickon.

“Oh, has Shaggy learned to speak?” Shireen retorted.

The direwolf took a small step—perhaps alerted by his name—before bristling up. He turned sharply toward Stannis, a growl growing from deep in his ribs as he bared his fangs. Stannis swallowed, wishing for nothing more than to push the beast aside and finally see his daughter.

“We’ve a guest,” Rickon said darkly.

There was a small sound of a reprimanding hit, and Shireen stepped out around Shaggydog with a hand in his fur. She shushed the wolf before looking forward. Then, tears sprang to her eyes. She ran forward as fast as she could, nearly tripping over her skirts, and threw herself into Stannis’s waiting arms.

“ _Father_ ,” she breathed out into his ear, squeezing him harder. Her body shook with a sob, and Stannis tried to soothe her. He rubbed his hand over her back, holding her tight against him.

“Shireen,” he replied. He relished in this proximity—that he finally had an opportunity to hold his daughter. Though Stannis wished to _see_ her, to have the proof that she thrived in the North and hadn’t wasted away, he was content holding on for as long as possible. Finally, her sobs subsided, and she took a small step away. Shireen looked all over him, perhaps not quite believing he was actually alive. Stannis couldn’t quite believe it himself.

Shireen wiped at her eyes before hugging him again, taking his hand and pulling him down the hall. “Father,” she said, grinning all the while. “This is Rickon Stark and his direwolf Shaggydog.”

“Lord Stark.” Stannis held out a hand, trying to gauge this boy who was scarcely a man that he knew only from the word of Davos. Rickon gave him a small nod before shaking his hand. Then, he smiled.

“Your Grace,” Rickon replied. “Your daughter speaks highly of you.”

“Rickon,” Shireen warned, hitting him away. Though it was meant to be a sharp action, Stannis noticed how they both slowed on contact, keeping their hands together as long as possible. Shireen turned to Stannis quickly, sending her hair flying. “We must tell Ser Davos. He’ll be having tea with Osha.”

“It’s not tea!” Rickon called as they retreated down the hall. Shireen quickly turned to stick her tongue out at Rickon before leaning into Stannis's arm.

“How long will we stay in Winterfell?” she mumbled out. Then, she added on, “Before we return to Dragonstone?”

Stannis let out a small hum. “I will need to confer with Davos first,” he said, “but I expect we no longer have Dragonstone. The Targaryen forces returned for the war.”

“Storm’s End?” Shireen asked hopefully. She obviously did not care for details of the war, or perhaps she was too wise to remind him of their losses.

“We’ll see,” Stannis said. Shireen stayed at his side for the remainder of the day, sitting contentedly at his side while Davos introduced him to Osha and retold a few of the stories he had already written out for Stannis longhand. They all sat together. Stannis did little talking. He brought up nothing of the war, nothing of the inheritances that would need to be settled, or the squabbles that persisted throughout the battle.

As the sun was setting, there was a tentative knock at the door. Rickon stepped in halfway. “I’ve prepared a meal, if you’re hungry,” he said, though he seemed to be speaking to the space between Shireen and Stannis. He idled a bit at the door before leaving quickly.

Though Stannis suspected Rickon would eat the meal alone, he noticed how Shireen looked after him. Standing up, Stannis asked Shireen to take him to the hall. Davos and Osha followed them, and they joined Rickon at the high table. The meal was the best Stannis had had in years, and he almost paid it more attention than he did his company. The longer he was away from the Wall, the more he could feel his responsibilities slipping away, even though he was certain he would receive news regarding the Baratheon seat soon.

“Um, Your Grace?”

Stannis turned, unused to the pleasantry with all the argument over crowns at the Wall. Rickon was at his side, speaking with his voice lowered.

“Could I have a word?” he asked.

Nodding, Stannis followed Rickon out into a courtyard, not looking back to see the knowing looks on everyone else’s faces. Rickon looked nervous, walking about aimlessly.

“Your Grace,” he started slowly.

“I believe I’ve lost that title,” Stannis interrupted. Rickon looked over curiously. “The Targaryen woman won us the war. I’m sure they will put the crown on her head.”

“I was told you wished for Shireen to become queen,” he said. “Ser Davos mentioned it. And she may never have the Iron Throne, but I’ve a crown of my own. I will need a wife.”

Stannis stifled his chuckle at the roundabout way Rickon spoke. He could tell that Rickon had rehearsed this for himself a few times. “Speak plainly, boy,” he said. “My daughter deserves that, at least.”

Rickon looked up, fierce determination in his eyes. “I wish to wed her,” he said. “And I hoped you would give your blessing.”

This time, Stannis let the smile come. “Hadn’t I given Shireen permission to negotiate this herself?”

“It’s not a negotiation,” Rickon snapped back. “She isn’t a prize.”

“Then, ask her yourself,” Stannis replied. “And please, do it soon. I will have to return south, and I’d wish to see my only child married.”

“Yes, ser,” he mumbled. Rickon froze in place, thinking over his words, and Stannis slowly made his way back to the hall.

Before he was out of earshot, Stannis turned back. “If I could make one request,” he called out. “She is my only heir, and if she is capable, I would like Storm’s End to be held by someone with Baratheon blood.”

Rickon’s face went so red, Stannis could see it at a distance. He stammered out a few sounds, never quite managing to make a word. Shaking his head, Stannis continued back to the hall. He went back to his seat, and he made for his drink, taking a long pull from it.

Sliding over, Shireen leaned over the table to see him. “What did Rickon want?”

Before Stannis could even put his drink down, the door behind them banged openly loudly. Rickon would surely make his intentions clear himself. Judging by the smile that never left Shireen’s face, and her laughter when Shaggydog brought her a bouquet of choppy flowers, she would be happy in Winterfell for the remainder of her life. Though Stannis knew he would only see a small moment of it, he would be forever grateful that the gods granted his life throughout the war, if only to see Shireen overcome with joy. She would be safe and protected under the care of Rickon Stark, and Stannis had no doubt that they would have a marriage better than any in the Seven Kingdoms.


End file.
